future, present; present, future.

the common belief is that, humans get so caught up in thinking about the future, that they forget to live for the present. therefore when we as students study, logically we're obsessed about our futures, and not about our presents. (In plural cos they're all different).

for me it's different. only when i live for the present can i study. for when i obsess and fantasise about my future, i do not need a high-paying job, neither do i need the top rung of the career ladder.

I just need something that'll let me live life, and not let life live me.

please not a desk job.

sick.

my bones are weary

eat and thin

i cannot jump the trampoline.

for heights so tall i can't express

the solitude of my distress

and this imagined bliss i can't quite ascertain.

my knees are weary

weak and thin

i cannot jump the trampoline

i cannot jump this trampoline.

what are you fighting for.

simplistic and quaint.

it's been more than a year. slightly more.

strangely, on the actual anniversary itself i didn't feel much. i barely felt anything.

like i observed before, it happens more in obscure moments. like tonight-

i ate a lonely late dinner again tonight.

came home late from doing art in school.

once again, like most other nights where i eat lonely late dinners (though i don't eat lonely late dinners on most other nights), i thought of my dad, and visualised him sitting in his usual spot.

and each bite of food felt awkward in my mouth.

i started thinking of all the things my dad and i would've done together if he were still alive, in the future. like maybe after ib, or ns, or uni. go fish. go exploring. go do something father-son like. then as i had a family- three generations bonding, him, me, and my children.

i started to miss the good ol' chats we used to have.

we never really chat about anything in particular.

but they were good nonetheless.

simplistic and quaint.

good chats.

grey curtain

today i sat in my computer chair

as my eyes glided over the grey curtain

though finding nothing of particular interest

didn't know when to stop, or where.

indifference, when it comes,

is a funny thing.

the tv rays go straight through my head.

my hand writes, it is unfamiliar

with the chinese words it produces.

had i not written these words before?

a bit am i, out of sorts;

my head is tired filled with thoughts.

music, break these walls!

my heart crawls to sensationalise

can i sensationalize life?

does my indifference neutralise or reveal?

indifference when it comes is a funny thing.

neutralize! reveal!

fire the guns of tomorrow.

maybe then, a curtain could be more interesting.

i didn't know when to stop, or where.

but i guess here will do.

a bit i am, out of sorts.